Daughter of Evil
by super-hana
Summary: Based on the Vocaloid song sung by Kagamine Rin. Can the cruelest heart be tamed? An AU story showing the life of Angela Thompson - the royal pain herself. M; language, adult themes.
1. Tea Time

Hi everyone!  
My first fanfic posted on . EVER. *squee*  
I am looking to get some constructive criticism and advice - so please do give me those little notes, no matter how big or small so I can meet up to your expectations. I'm also hoping that you do like this, and that you tell me what you want out of it so I can continue.

Now, without any further ado, let's go.

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Aku no Musume/Daughter of Evil**

_Chapter 1 – Tea Time_

"Oh, it's tea time."

The world was split into five different countries – the Yellow, the Blue, the Green, the Red and the main land in the middle – where the towns markets and other necessities were. Of all the lands, the Yellow took charge, with each command and call being the law.

Ruler of this land was a youthful and lively girl of only 20, her golden strands of hair signifying beauty and royalty. Though one of the younger rulers amongst the world, she did not lack any quality to be a queen – despite her heart of gold and her sense of justice. As elegant as she was, she strutted around her castle in proud, pastel yellow dresses – with each one embroidered with silk and lace. If her majesty was not parading around her castle barking orders, she would be found sitting in her courtly chair.

The time at the moment just happened to be her majesty's 'tea time', where she would be served the most delicious and sweet biscuits, with a selection of cakes and coffees at her arsenal. A tall, lean man with equally golden hair (though only shoulder length) wheeled in a trolley through the royal highness's chamber, with trays loaded with confectionary and sugar-snacks on the first layer of the trolley. The second layer had the dearest's coffee and sugar cubes, whilst the last layer carried her selection of cakes.

"Tyler, hurry it up~!"

"Yes, Miss Angela."

At the command, the servant hastened his pace, before halting at the Ruler's feet to kneel with as much respect and gratitude as he could muster.

"Your Highness, I apologize for the delay. I sincerely hope that the treats today will meet your standards."

Angie merely 'harrumphed' at the poor sight of her servant's sucking up routine, and snatched a biscuit off the trolley. Even though she took a miniscule bite, the puckered look she plastered on her face obviously showed utter disappointment.

"It is disgusting, Tyler, DIS-GUST-ING! I shall leave this horrid palace at once to find a more suiting delicacy at the town square."

"Your Highness! I do suggest tha-"

"SHUT UP, TYLER! I shall do as I please, thank you!"

Storming out of her chamber, her - (sigh) also – golden heels clicked and clattered against the stone hard floor. On her way out, she took a ragged robe that hung near the double doors, cloaked herself and raised the hood before, almost literally, punching the door down to make her way to the entrance hall. Tyler sighed and hung his head – he was surely going to receive punishment after the third appalling day in a row.

The dirt path from her castle was a rough walk to get to the town square – she'd be walking for a decent half an hour, if not, and hour at least. Hitching the skirt of her dress up and removing her dear high heeled shoes of gold, she set off on bare feet for her quest to find a proper delicacy.

Her Highness hadn't even reached her half way point – and she'd taken a decent hour now. How she would even actually make it to the town and back to the manor was going to be an impressive feat. Oh, how she wished she'd requested for her chariot. Her heels ached, her legs were almost a gelatinous mess, and her body was screaming and crying for a rest.

Staggering along the path, her pale green eyes widened once she had seen a smoothly paved stone bridge. Although the ground wasn't carpet soft, it would surely beat walking on twigs, stones and other obstructions. Her left hand hitched her skirt higher and her feet hastened to reach soft ground. After taking her last step onto the callous dirt path, she collapsed into a untidy heap on the stone. Like an overworked father to a bed, she simply fell.

Witness to this breakdown was a man with chestnut hair and a pair of rectangular framed glasses, (guess who~!) with a blue scarf wrapped snugly around his neck. His clothes were pristine white - with the cuffs of his shirt the same colour as his scarf. In a slight state of panic, he rushed over from the opposite side of the stone bridge to assist the fallen woman.

"Are you alright, madame?" the man called, the voice foreign to Angie.

"I'll have you know that I am perfectly-"

She looked up at the one she snapped at - only to realise she was proud to call the stranger her 'savior'. The man's fingers intertwined with hers - helping her up to her feet. His brown eyes had a warm reassuring aura as he smiled at her, making her Majesty's eyes soften and her heart to melt. This man must be some miracle worker - he was the first to even calm the compassion-less queen.

". . . f-fine."

"What, so I don't get a thank you?" he laughed, jokingly.

Her savior's demeanor caused a deep flush to colour her cheeks, making him laugh harder - if that was possible. Dusting her ragged-looking dress off to free it from any dirt or stains, she looked back up at the stranger to give him a pout.

"Thank you, then, sir. I app-"

"Stiles, will do fine, madame. Derek Stiles."

Although hesitant, she thought it only necessary for her to share her name to put the two on a less stiff basis. Derek almost made it compulsory for her to share her title as well - letting out a hand for her to shake.

"Thompson. Angela Thompson," she said, reluctantly letting her gloved hand out to shake his.

After a few solemn shakes of the hand, Derek let go with another warm grin. With the same hand he had used to shake her's, he waved a goodbye to her before he departed.

"I am terribly sorry, Angie, but I must be on my way."

"My name is _Angela_, sir," she shot back at him.

"Alright, farewell, Angie!"

"_AN-GE-LA_."

The man then set off at a jogging pace, leaving her by herself again. With high hopes that the two would meet again, Angela would make sure he wouldn't leave without falling into the palm of her hand. . .

_To Be Continued_

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WELL. How was that?  
Not much of a cliffie from my perspective, but please do give me some hints and tips. To be honest, I'm actually asking for (constructive) criticism rather that praise, but I'll be satisfied with anything! Look at me. . . I'm so naggy. Ugh. Just. . . don't listen to me. Do what you want.  
I should stop talking to myself about how stupid I am sooner or later. FOR GOODNESS SAKES HANA, THIS IS THE AUTHOR'S NOTE SECTION. NOT THE RANTING SECTION.

Okay. Shutting up now. :]


	2. The Garden's Decline

I hope this chapter is as good as the last one - if not better. I posted these two chapters on the same day - though I had written the first chapter about a week or so ago. The explanation is too long, so just get into the story already. It's what you want, anyway. ;D

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**Aku no Musume/Daughter of Evil**

_Chapter 2 – The Garden's Decline_

After the horrid display she had put on for the man, Angela had now a purpose other than ruling the lands in her life – to capture that man and make her his. He was no ordinary man for him to be able to put even the slightest of smiles on her Majesty's lips, and for him to mercilessly detain her heart.

Now that she was already up on her feet, she assumed it was time she hurried to the town square before it reached the time of day where she dined exquisitely for lunch. Dropping her footwear recklessly, she maneuvered her foot around to slip it inside the high heeled shoe and get moving.

With a motivation now set, there was nothing that could stop this bold ruler now. She'd quickened her pace – despite the fact she wore her dear heeled shoes. Now that she'd actually begun to manage her time well, the town square was in her sights a few hundred metres away. Who knew that a first love could drive one so eagerly?

Finally – the pebble stoned pathways of the town square. A sigh of contentment made it's way past her majesty's throat. But, the blissful moment had lasted only shortly, realizing that she did not carry a purse – nor did she have a pocket sown onto her dress to keep one in. She looked up and around the street she was on, and to her dismay, there weren't any shops that sold treats for free.

'_No matter_,' she told herself. '_I shall merely ask for a donation to the royal family._'

Objective two: find a suitable subject to rob of their money. No townsperson looked decent enough in their down right mind though – all of them wearing old looking hand-me-downs with mending patches stuck all over them. That was when the opinion of her Highness was changed.

A fist was thrown in the direction of her face, signifying another thick-headed idiot who'd given into betrayal's puppet strings.

"You _BITCH_! You fucking killed my _SISTER_. Just for your own sick little entertainment!"

"Oh, we have a volunteer," Angela sneered, swiftly avoiding the attack with a tilt of her head.

The miss sent the traitor flying past Angela, the force put into the punch not thought over. With a vulnerable opening present, her Highness took the opportunity with pride. Having taken Aikido with her – now – servant, Tyler, as a child, this was nothing but a breeze for her. Her dress did not show any restriction of her flexibility as she elbowed a few centimeters above the centre of the spine. This left the woman dazed – falling down to her demise against the cold, hard ground. A manic smirk began to play at the corners of her lips, watching her victim scream for mercy as she tugged at her long, silver locks. Straddling the upper back of the weakling below her, she leaned over to whisper something into the poor townswoman's ear.

"I do suggest you hand over the payment for your impoliteness, hn?" Angela snickered.

Fortunately for her Ladyship, the money spilled right out of the pushover. After hesitantly deciding to free the woman's hair, she snatched the dough that left the pockets of the woman. One dollar, five dollars, ten cents, fifty cents. . . and a five cent coin.

"What the _hell_ is this crap!" her Grace demanded.

No response.

"Fine. You can clean off the rest of my gowns with my other laundry servants," she then scoffed in response.

Ripping out more than a couple dozen strands of her flowing silver hair, Angela let the locks slip out of her hands and 'rain' on top of the woman. Then, like a swift assassin, she left the scene with her own pride and her victim's pocket money. The woman who had been dangled by a string, however, defied all means of acceptance to this act.

"I, Kimishima, will _not_ stand for this! You will one day cease to exist!"

'_Tch_. _YOU'LL definitely be long gone before that ever happens,_' the Golden Queen giggled psychotically to herself.

Business now done, she wasted her money on an unworthy five dollar chocolate chipped biscuit. She strolled through town, throwing her biscuit half eaten as she walked away to the rats and pigeons of the poor land. One day, she would strive to create a Utopia – that only existed to please the Yellow Kingdom's jewel without a second thought.

The pleasant dream she had was broken short by a calling voice from the other end of the alley way she was walking down. The shoulder lengthed blonde hair gave away who it was immediately – a disappointed sigh seeping through her teeth. Face-palming her forehead in shame, she shook her head before any witty remark was shot to her loyal servant.

"What is it now, _Tyler_?" she seethed.

"Your Highness, your father has requested that we lea-"

"Oh, do _shut up_ once in a while, Tyler," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

Her loyal, right-hand man escorted her outside the perimeters of the town square to reach the rickshaw that was carried along by her trusty horse, Josephine. Finally, someone who would listen to orders with common sense!

"Josephine!" she barked as an order as if her horse was a dog. "Here, now!"

Without a second thought, her horse galloped gracefully in her direction. Tyler commented under his breath about how stubborn the damned horse was when he called an order, but an obedient robot that would carry out any order by the queen herself. He was pulled back into consciousness after his little talk to himself by Angela stomping her foot down in her seat – which made him instinctive jump and shake the reins attached to the horse.

"Tyler."

Her servant didn't answer – just incase she was talking to herself. Obviously, it was a big mistake.

"_TYLER_!"

"Y-yes, ma'am!"

The rickshaw stopped abruptly before a stone bridge – one that looked strikingly like the one Angela had met the angel sent down from the heavens. Tyler dropped the reins of the horse to turn back attentively to his leader.

"Have you ever felt the cursed feeling they call 'love' in this world, Tyler?"

He didn't answer yet again – though this time, he did it out of sheer embarrassment.

"_TY-_"

"Y-yes ma'am." He was referring to the undying loyalty he had to his ruler, his beautiful, elegant queen.

Before she opened her mouth to speak once again, she heard the same, warm hearted laughter back when she met that alluring man. But, something caught her eye. A disgusting sight that made her pucker her face up.

The bastard was with another woman.

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OHOHOHOHOHO. Now that, shocked me out of my skin. I can't tell you who it is. You'll find out who that woman is next chapter, and what Angie thinks about this horrid couple. HOW DARE THAT WOMAN BREAK THE MARRIAGE MADE IN HEAVEN UP.

Until the next chapter,  
Hana, out.

(Reviews are like cookies - because Hana loves them.)


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